Bechloe Songfics!
by Dylan Fox
Summary: Just a collection of stories dedicated to our favourite aca-ship! Don't be afraid to ask for a request! xx
1. Best Song Ever With Me

**'sup, dudes! I've posted the first part of this so many times, I've lost count. BUT, here it is again, and this time it's sticking - as part as a buttload [maybe] of other fics! You can request a songs if you so wish, or just chuck a prompt my way. I can't promise I'll be quick, but I'll do the best I can! There are a couple I'm working on as I type this, so there might be a delay. Anyway, enjoy, you awesome nerds xx**

 **[originally written in 2015 - with up to date edits]**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters, or the songs. _Pitch Perfect_ is property of Universal Pictures.**

 **Songs involved: Best Song Ever [One Direction], Shut Up and Dance With Me [Walk the Moon], Rise [Jonas Blue - TV Noise Ibiza remix], Dance With Me [CHIC ft. Hailee Steinfeld - favourite song at time of final edit]**

* * *

The music was blaring through the speaker system and through the throng of drunken party-goers. Most were on the dancefloor, raving and getting drunk or baked [if they weren't already off their tits]. There must have been a few thousand people there, Beca thought to herself as she observed the pathetic excuses of dance moves from the far side of the club. She grimaced at the heavy set man twerking.

It wasn't her choice to be here, of course! No, she'd rather stay in her dorm and work on her mixes, or skive 'intro to philosophy' class. Hell, she'd rather watch a movie then go out clubbing – and everyone knows Beca Mitchell _hates_ movies! It was all Jesse's fault anyway. He thought that Beca needed to 'let loose' and 'get laid'. She eventually gave in and agreed to go to the club _Element_. Her best friend told her to meet him there, but then they got in, approximately ten girls practically threw themselves at him, leaving Beca to stand there at the edge of the club, drinking her GnT.

"Get me outta here," Beca uttered as she brought the glass she was holding up to her lips, only to discover the alcohol was gone! She groaned in exasperation, rolled her eyes and sauntered back over to the bar.

"Another gin and tonic, please," Beca said, along with the woman beside her. She looked to her side and was met with startling blue eyes. Beca gaped, staring into her orbs.

"Are you okay?" the stranger asked after a while, raising her eyebrow a fraction. She had wavy, ginger locks that flowed past her shoulders and rested on her breasts. Her teeth were shimmering like pearls around her bubblegum coloured lips. Her jawline was – in Beca's eyes – perfection! "Hello?"

"Shit, sorry," Beca said, coming out of her daze. "Fuck, uh, hi." She mentally slapped herself for swearing in front of this beauty.

"Wow, you've got a dirty mouth, haven't you?" the woman commented jokily, smiling. That smile alone was enough to drive the petite brunette wild. It was like she just strolled by her heart and was like 'I'm taking this, see you later'. Right past the guards she went, as if it was already hers from the get-go. She debated asking if she could return it, but decided against it.

"Like you haven't sworn before," Beca said. Judging by the expression on the stranger's face, she knew she was right – everyone swears! "I'm Beca, by the way," she introduced as their drinks came.

* * *

After the woman informed that her name was Chloe Beale and insisting that she pay for the drinks, the two women talked and talked about anything and everything. Beca learned that Chloe was born in Oregon, she was twenty-five years old [two years above Beca] and her father worked as a dentist. During their conversation, Chloe would laugh at the most random points of a story. It was soon discovered that the two had a lot in common – from taste in music to the same highschool [Beca wondered how she never notice her in school before, what with that shocking red hair and beautiful smile]. Beca also noticed that Chloe was wearing a navy-blue backless dress and her feet were decorated with a beat up – but neat enough to still look stylish – Vans. They both consumed about twelve units of alcohol while they were talking. As the night went on, the lights diminished and the bass of the music got louder.

Just as Beca was about to get up and leave, the TV Noise Ibiza remix of Jonas Blue's _Rise_ filled the club.

"I love this song!" Beca and Chloe proclaimed in unison, followed by a laugh, which was way louder than it should have been. By that moment, Beca knew that she liked Chloe a lot more than she expected to just from their first meeting.

"Come on," Chloe ordered, pulling Beca off of her stool by the arm and dragged her out to the centre of the dancefloor, music bursting their eardrums.

It took Beca a while to adjust to what was going on; her vision was hazy from all the alcohol in her system. Her gaze took her to the glass of vodka and coke she left at the bar.

"Don't you dare look back." Chloe forced Beca's head back to look at her. The quick movement made the brunette stumble due to the dizziness. "Just keep your eyes on me." That was no problem for Beca. How can anyone _not_ look at her? With their eyes glued to one another, they danced. But not just danced – they raved!

After _Rise_ had finished, they stayed out there, strobe lights almost blinding them and being bumped into by random people. From the corner of her eye, Beca saw her best friend getting grinded on by some random chick! He was enjoying it way too much, in Beca's opinion. Chloe must have followed her gaze, because before she could comprehend anything, Chloe was copying the moves by twerking her crotch.

At first, she didn't know how to react; she stood there with a terrified expression, thankful that Chloe couldn't see her face.

"You're holding back," Beca suddenly spoke, much to Chloe's amusement. She stopped her twerking, came nose-to-nose with Beca and let out a devilish grin.

"Holding back?" she questioned Beca, gazing into her deeper blue eyes. At that moment, Beca could have sworn she saw herself spending her life with this woman: a house in the suburbs, a dog, a few kids – the perfect life. "How's this for holding back?" Before Beca had time to react, Chloe cupped her face and pulled her in for a breathtaking kiss.

It was slow and passionate, that kiss. Chloe worked Beca's mouth like she'd never been kissed before. Although Beca Mitchell had never kissed a girl in her life, she must admit... she liked it. Before long, the unity was broken. Panting for air, Beca stared ahead at the redhead in front of her, unable to form coherent words.

"Uh..." was all she could manage.

"Shut up and dance with me!" Chloe exclaimed, grabbing her newly acquainted friend by the hands. And they did just that – they danced, singing along to every word of CHIC's _Dance With Me_ and consuming huge amounts of alcohol.

Towards the end of the night, Beca slurred out, "can I take you home with me?" She held a hopeful expression, despite not being able to think straight [pun intended].

Chloe considered this for a few minutes. The only reason she came out was to get laid; she never expected another woman to steal her heart – even though she was totally out of it and would probably forget everything in the morning. She finally settled for, "never in your wildest dreams," and pulled Beca in for another heartfelt kiss.

This one held a thousand times more passion – and love – than the last. She swept Beca off of her feet – hypothetically. She swooned over her. She was begging for every inch of her slim, tanned body.

After a few more Sambuca shots, the two ladies decided to call it a night. Since neither were sober enough to drive, they thought a taxi home was the easier – and safer – option.

The night after that was a total blur for the both of them.

* * *

The next morning, after arriving home past 3am, Beca awoke from her slumber at 10am with the worst headache she'd experienced since her graduation. Her head was pounding and it felt as though her back has been brutally whipped and scratched.

"Fuck," Beca groaned as she rolled over onto her stomach. It was then that she spotted a naked woman lying beside her, facing her; she was awake. Her blue eyes bored into her own. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her perfectly sculpted jawline. Her smile was beautiful and content. Beca could stare at her for hours.

"G'morning," the woman said, startling Beca. Her voice was angelic and pure [well, as pure as it can get in this situation]. When Beca didn't say anything, the woman frowned. "Hello?" she said. Suddenly, all the memories from last night came flooding back.

She remembered arriving at a club and being ditched by her best friend. She remembered ordering the same drink at the bar as some stranger. She remembered that said stranger was remarkably beautiful. She remembered getting drunk and chatting with her. She remembered dancing and kissing her. She remembered, later that night, that she and the woman... "Oh my god!" Beca cried, creating an adorable squeak from the stranger in her bed, in which Beca almost swooned over. "We had... I mean, you and me... we-"

"Had sex?" the woman finished for Beca's startled stutters. "From what I remember, yeah."

"Oh my fuck, this can't be happening." Beca repeated that statement over and over as she paced her bedroom – still in the nude. The woman lounging on her bed, with a grin, was eyeing her body. "Don't look at me like that!" Beca shot.

"You're the one that came onto me!"

"I'm straight!"

"Yeah, me too." Beca just stared in bewilderment. "I bet you can't even remember my name." The stranger's voice was laced with a melancholic tone. Beca hummed her response. "Chloe Beale," the redhead stated. Beca traced her fingers along the scratches on her back.

"Beca Mitchell," she replied, frowning slightly. She suddenly felt bad for what she just said, but she couldn't bring herself to apologise verbally. All she could do was stutter like a highschooler in front of their crush.

During Beca's brief brain-fart, Chloe was dressing herself. She couldn't help but think she looked positively graceful doing the simple action.

"I don't expect you to apologise," Chloe cut through Beca's stamming words. "You were drunk – I understand." She looked Beca dead in the eye. "I just thought you'd remember me."

"Chloe, I-"

"Don't, Beca," the redhead interrupted, trying out her name on her sober lips. She smiled kindly, and left the bedroom, draping a huge coat over her body to hide last night's clothes.

Beca raced after her. "Wait," she called, just as Chloe's foot was out of the door. She refused to turn around, because she felt that, if she did, she could break down then and there. "Stay here." Chloe heard the small brunette's voice and banging and crashing coming from behind her, noting the odd curse word here and there.

Before long, it grew silent. Well, silent except from Beca's heavy breathing.

"Here." Chloe spun around to find Beca standing in front of her – clad in a blue-purple plaid shirt and skinny black jeans – holding out a note. The taller woman gazed at her in confusion, taking the piece of paper she was being offered. "Call me," Beca said. Then she added, with a light chuckle, "I promise to remember you this time."

* * *

 **Remember what I said - don't be afraid to request something [my writing is way better than this now, I promise]!**

 **Catcha later and have a great day.  
Dilly xx**


	2. Begin Again pt 1 - It's a Match!

**This songfic is split into two parts, because now that I have a job, my writing time has been cut short. This one is dedicated to a friend because I promised to write her something to cheer her up.**

 **Synopsis - Beca and Chloe match on Tinder!**

 **Song Involved: Begin Again [Taylor Swift]**

* * *

"I did it!" Beca called into her apartment, struggling to remove the scarf from her neck. "I quit my job." For someone who was now unemployed, she was surprisingly chipper.

Her roommate and best friend came bopping into the sitting room, earphones attached to the side of her head. Beca could hear Drake's vocals drifting from the speakers, so there's no way she acknowledged what she had just said. This was confirmed when Fat Amy jolted in surprise at seeing her short friend home so early.

Deciding to be polite – something that occurs once in a blue moon from the chubby blonde – Amy tugged at the wire of the earphones, letting them fall. "What?" came the Australian drawl.

"I finally did it," Beca said excitedly, her grin almost cracking her face in two.

"You got back together with Jesse?" Amy's hand magnetised to her lips in genuine disbelief, her eyes bulging from her head.

"No!" Beca's smile didn't falter in the slightest. "I finally quit my job!"

"You got fired?!" The Australian wrapped the tiny brunette in a tight embrace, lifting her off her feet and collapsed to the bed, despite Beca's protests. "Yanno, now that you're out of a job, you can focus on other things."

Wriggling free from her best friend's grasp, Beca sat up. "Like what?"

"Sex!"

Beca immediately crashed back down with an exasperated groan. "I don't want sex!"

"Gimme your cell," Amy said, ignoring her friend entirely, hand outstretched expectantly. Reluctantly, Beca fished her phone from her rear pocket and slapped it into Amy's palm.

Beca watched as the blonde unlocked her mobile with ease and tapped away with her thumbs like a speed demon. She was almost impressed as Amy's eyes darted across the tiny screen, but she then remembered that she had once took on a crocodile and a dingo simultaneously [apparently].

Smiling proudly and slyly, Amy handed the phone back to its owner, her eyes never leaving Beca's. Suspicious, Beca dropped her gaze.

"You downloaded Tinder?!" Amy was laughing so hard, she actually fell off the bed. "Why would you download _Tinder?_ "

"Because, my tiny little friend," Amy got out through her giggles, "you haven't slept with anyone since you broke up with Jesse, and it's starting to become very obvious." But before Beca could explain that she'd been too busy with work and _pursuing her dream_ , Amy continued. "You're cranky."

"I am not cranky!" Beca retorted, crankily.

"See?" Amy said, poking the stunted woman in the leg from her place on the floor. "Cranky."

"Whatever, dude," sighed Beca, glaring down the phone in her hand. It took longer than expected for her to agree. There wasn't really harm in a little fun, right? "Fine, I'll do it," she caved; Amy giving herself a high-five. " _If_ you give me back my iPod."

Amy glanced down at the small, blue device sticking out from her pocket, earphones still plugged in. Defeated [because Beca needed to get laid fast], the Australian, painfully slowly, handed back the iPod nano to its rightful owner.

Thanking her best friend, Beca rose to her feet and walked herself to the kitchen. Quitting one's job works up quite the appetite.

With the brunette safely out of view, Amy swiped the phone that Beca had so stupidly left behind.

And she kept swiping right.

* * *

"I thought I told you to delete that thing?" Aubrey challenged, leaning over the bar to see what her redheaded friend was chuckling at.

"But it's hilarious!" Chloe defended. "Look at this one." Swirling her phone around so that the blonde could read it properly, she failed to hold in her giggles.

 _Swipe right if you're ready for this jelly_.

Aubrey groaned, a little too loudly. Chloe smirked to herself as she slid her index finger across her phone. "You actually swiped right?!" Aubrey shrieked incredulously.

"She's hot!" the redhead protested, earning an eyeroll from the blonde bartender.

"I'll never understand you gays," she grumbled under her breath.

"And this is why you will forever be painfully heterosexual," commented Chloe, eyes never lifting from the screen.

Plucking the mobile away from her, Aubrey lifted a questioning eyebrow at the text in front of her face. "What freak doesn't like movies?" she said, more to herself than anybody else.

"When was the last time you watched a movie?" Chloe dared, grinning up at her best friend. The silence she received in response made her beam wider. "She's cute though, right?" she asked, accepting the device back.

"I wouldn't know," Aubrey replied before hearing her name being hollered from the other side of the bar. Grumbling, she apologised to the redhead and quickly made her way over to the waiting punter.

Chloe continued to smile down at her phone. This girl was hella beautiful! She wasn't the kind of beautiful that slaps you in the face and makes you want to bed them there and then. She was a subtle beautiful, with the way her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, and the way her cobalt eyes twinkle in the artificial light – she was downright gorgeous!

Chloe vowed that if she were meet this woman, she'd make her watch a movie, just to see what she would do; what she was capable of.

She swiped right.

* * *

Beca sat at the single dining chair that their tiny studio apartment had to offer, checking her phone every five minutes as she nursed a bowl of cereal [one would suggest that eating cereal in the late afternoon is reckless and silly. One could also be clinically insane]. She had never been one to be 'addicted' to technology, but ever since Amy had downloaded the dating app, she couldn't seem to put her cell down. Swiping left to this girl, right to that guy… It didn't really help that she had literally nowhere to be.

With her roommate out at her one woman show 'Fat Amy Winehouse', Beca was left all alone in their apartment… and it was driving her crazy!

Her phone buzzed to life beside her on the table, and she almost choked on her cornflakes. Picking up the damned thing, she unlocked it, only to find herself confused beyond all hell.

 _It's a match! You and Chloe have liked each other_.

Who the crap was Chloe? Throughout all of her swiping, she had never come across a _Chloe_. Unless…

"Goddamn it, Amy!"

She had to admit, though, this Chloe chick was remarkably stunning! Looking through her pictures, she found herself mesmerised by the redheaded beauty. How the sun bouncing off her skin made it seem as though she was glowing, how her eyes were so… _blue_! The most earth-shattering, breath-taking shade of blue she'd ever seen on a human person. As cliché as it sounds, Beca felt as though she was drowning in them.

"What are you smiling at?" came a voice from above her. Beca let a small squeak escape her lips as she glanced up, coming face-to-boob with her younger, but annoyingly taller, friend Emily [she forgot that she had the only other spare key]. "Ooh, she's pretty," the girl gushed.

Clearing her throat, Beca locked her phone – she could always strike up a conversation later – and spun in her seat. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't a friend come over unannounced?" Emily shot her an overdramatic pout.

"That depends," Beca began, standing and making her way over to the sink, empty cereal bowl in hand. She rinsed the bowl and left it to drain. "What do you want?" she finalised, leaning on the counter top, arms crossed just below her breasts.

"Well," Emily cooed, causing Beca to roll her eyes, "Amy mentioned something about you putting yourself back out there." She clapped excitedly, bouncing on her toes.

Beca groaned, allowing her feet to drag her to the bed, where she all but happily flopped belly first onto the pristine sheets that somehow smelled like a blend of peanut butter and marmite. Which is strange, considering that Beca despises both of those things.

Having left her phone unprotected from the clutches of Emily Junk was possibly the worst thing that Beca could have done. Emily was typing away on her tiny friend's phone, a cunning smirk at her lips.

Beca narrowed her eyes at her. "What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"Setting you up," Emily deadpanned.

"WHAT?" Beca squawked, springing up from the mattress and was at the student's side in less than a second. "Nonononono," she mumbled, stealing the mobile away. "What have you done?" She sounded almost petrified.

The tall woman giggled. "You're welcome." If Emily wasn't such an innocent, adorable cinnamon roll, she'd be rolling away on a stretcher by now. The wink that she shot Beca didn't help either. "You've got a date."

* * *

Stepping from the bathroom, Chloe was bombarded with the scent of Indian food. She hummed and smiled to herself – Tuesdays have always been Indian take-out night for the roommates.

Drying her hair with a small towel, the redhead sat at the kitchen island, waiting for Aubrey to dish out their meals. "Smells awesome," she gushed, inhaling deeply.

"I would hope so," Aubrey commented, shoving a plate of piping curry towards her. Chloe rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Your phone's been going crazy, by the way." The blonde bobbed her head towards the device sitting on charge beside the toaster. Aubrey unplugged her roommate's mobile and handed it over as Chloe tucked in.

Unlocking her phone, she skimmed the notifications that rolled in. That was until her eyes landed on one particular message: _It's a match! You and Beca have liked each other!_

"Yes!" Chloe allowed herself a mini, celebratory fist pump. But her smile soon fell as she realised that Beca has started a conversation with her. "Shit."

"What is it?" Aubrey asked curiously, sitting down beside the redhead and tucking into her own meal. "Got another pussy pic?" She instantly regretted what came out of her mouth.

"Ew, gross!" Chloe grimaced. "Please never say that again." Aubrey immediately agreed and asked what had gotten her best friend so shaken and bug-eyed. "You know that girl who hates movies?" The blonde nodded. "She wants to hang out."

Aubrey dropped the fork that was mid-way to her agape mouth. "What?!" she shrieked. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

"What?!" Aubrey repeated, unable to fathom how quickly this Beca chick moved. "You have to say no," she ordered nonchalantly, shovelling rice into her mouth.

Chloe snorted obnoxiously. "No way," she countered, already typing her reply. Sighing, Aubrey rolled her eyes and kept eating – once Chloe set her mind on something, there was no changing it. She'd learnt that the hard way. When the redhead let out a high-pitched squeal escape her lips, Aubrey almost choked. "She said yes!"

Before the blonde had a chance to explain how absolutely reckless and idiotic she was being, the door to their apartment slammed open so hard, it almost fell off its hinges. Whipping their heads around to see what the actual fuck was happening, they got an eyeful of a half-naked Stacie Conrad struggling to unbuckle her companion's belt. Finally finding success, she shoved him in the direction of her bedroom, kicking the front door closed behind her as she hurriedly followed him.

She didn't even notice her two roommates sitting three feet away from them. Thankfully, this is Stacie – they're used to it.

Aubrey spun back to face the redhead. "If you get murdered, I'll kill you." The two carried on their meals in a comfortable silence.

* * *

Grumbling to herself, Beca slipped on a pair of high heels. If it was up to her, she'd show up wearing her trusty Converse, but both Amy and Emily had insisted she wear those stupid lady stilts that she'd only worn once before. Jesse had told her that they made her 'too tall' and that he preferred her to be 'tiny and adorable like the day we met'. She isn't gonna lie – Beca liked wearing them, for the reason that he hated them. She never understood what his thought process was, but she loved him. So she hadn't worn a single pair of heels again.

Until today, anyway.

"You look so pretty!" Emily gushed from the dining chair. The student had invited herself over to make sure that Beca was prepped and ready for her date [Beca had maintained the fact that this was most certainly _not_ a date].

"Bite me," Beca spat.

"Isn't that your new girlfriend's job?" Amy asked, sprawled out on the bed – she hadn't moved since Emily arrived. The taller brunette giggled behind her hand.

"She isn't my girlfriend!" Beca cried exasperated, stomping her foot, much like a child who just got refused to play outside in the rain.

"Yet," Emily said, beating Amy to the punch.

Having enough of her friends' endless teasing, Beca blocked out their cackles, instead focusing on her attire in the floor length mirror. They were only going to a local café, so she didn't have to try too hard. Her legs were encased in a pair of dark, low-rise denim jeans, ripped at the knees, a black t-shirt decorated with her favourite band, the Nearly Dead's, logo and a plaid shirt because she'd refused to go out without it.

If she was being honest, this was just a typical outfit for Beca Mitchell – sans the heels, of course.

She gazed at herself in the mirror, cautiously putting her ear-spikes in. Beca then bared her teeth, just to make sure no lingering fragments of breakfast was trapped in between them.

"If you're bothered by your appearance that much," Amy piped up, causing the stunted woman to roll her eyes, "you should probably put some makeup on."

"I do have makeup on!" Beca retorted, spinning on her heel to come face her chubby friend. "See?" She vaguely gestured to her face, or more precisely, her heavy eyeliner.

Emily rose from her seat in the kitchenette to examine Beca's face. "Amy's right," she spoke softly, turning Beca's face this way and that. "At least put some concealer on. You're breaking out again."

Beca twisted back to the mirror with a small squeak, scrutinising herself.

"So you do care." Amy grinned her notorious shit-eating grin and wiggled her eyebrows. Beca refused to face her again, afraid that something in her face would give her away. Because yes, she does care. A lot. Not just about this none-date, but about things in general – she just doesn't like to show it all that much. Makes her appear weak; vulnerable. Something that Beca doesn't particularly enjoy.

"Whatever," she grumbled, grimacing at her reflection. "Emily?" She beckoned said woman over. "Fix me."

Emily was more than happy to oblige as she clapped enthusiastically. She grabbed her makeup bag from the dining room table, which she had brought for just such an occasion. It didn't take long for Emily to make Beca look presentable – a little mascara there, foundation here, and she was looking like a million bucks! Well, close enough, anyway.

"Damn, Mitchell," Amy complimented. "If I was into girls, I totally would." The Australian tossed her a wink and Beca physically recoiled, her face contorted into a grimace.

"You're welcome," Emily said with a satisfied smile and a nod of her head. "Now go out there and get–"

"Laid!" Amy finished for her tall friend. Beca gazed at her reflection and took a deep breath. She was finally going on her first date – _no, it's not a date, shut up!_ – in eight months.

Picking up her bag from beside the door and pocketing her iPod nano, which she had hidden earlier that day from Amy, she squared up to her best friends, attempting to make herself look big. It didn't work, but she tried anyway.

"Give me your keys," she said, holding out a waiting hand. Amy and Emily exchanged a bemused glance, asking 'why?' simultaneously. "Because I know you're going to follow and spy on me." Beca wiggled her fingers and both of the taller women groaned and fished out their apartment keys and smacked them into the small brunette's outstretched palm. "Thank you," Beca said politely and made her way out of the door.

Before she locked the door however, she pressed her ear to the wood, listening in on her friends' conversation. She didn't catch much, but she did hear the word 'scissor' and then a cackling giggle.

Twisting her key into the lock, she rolled her eyes, a fond smile curving her lips. Amy and Emily have been her friends for years; surely they know by now that scissoring is _not a thing_.

Deciding it wasn't worth dwelling over, because she knows for a fact they will not listen, she placed her headphones over her ears, careful not to ruin the hair the Emily had so kindly styled for her. Pressing the play button on her iPod, Beca grinned with her teeth.

Emma Blackery's Take Me Out had been one of Beca's most favourite songs since it was released in mid-2018. In fact, she loves it so much, that she had it on repeat for over week. Of course, it annoyed the crap out of Jesse – he always said that he didn't get it, which Beca never understood. You just had to listen to the lyrics to understand them. The stunted woman related to this particular song of the YouTube artist, amongst a truckload of others.

Humming along softly, Beca made her way down the corridor and out into the parking lot. Needless to say, she was shitting bricks.

* * *

"Where are my keys?" Chloe frantically cried as she threw the couch cushions over her shoulder.

"Have you checked the bowl?" Aubrey suggested. "Y'know, where they _should_ be."

"That's the first place I looked!" the redhead shrieked, practically panicking. "They are literally nowhere."

Stacie quickly emerged from the bedroom is a lacy, unnecessarily revealing, night gown. "Chlo, you're gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that." Chloe's frown simply deepened. "You have such gorgeous skin." The lengthy brunette stroked the back of her hand along her cheek, which Chloe promptly swatted away. "Alright, Miss. Cranky-Pants! I'll help you look."

However, Stacie's definition of 'help' required extremely little. She allowed her long legs to take her to the kitchen, where she lifted the top of the kettle and peered inside. She then gave up and retired to her sleeping chambers, which Chloe wasn't entirely pleased about; she was sure she could feel steam coming out of her ears.

"Ah-ha!" Aubrey exclaimed. "Found 'em!" She dangled her roommate's apartment/car keys from her index finger. Squealing in appreciation, Chloe pranced over to the blonde and gave her a bone-crushing embrace and a peck to the cheek. "Save it for your girlfriend, Chlo," Aubrey reprimanded, prying Chloe's arms off of her.

"You're a lifesaver!" the redhead gushed, bouncing on her toes. "Where did you find them?"

"Your purse," Aubrey deadpanned.

"Oh." Chloe felt like a goddamn idiot now. You would think that would be the second place she looked! Poor Chloe was flustered and apprehensive about this day. Then something slapped her in the face. "What if she's a catfish?"

Aubrey placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, a warm smile perched on her lips. "Then I have an excuse to say 'I told you so'."

"What if she's late?" Chloe squawked, ignoring Aubrey completely. Then, she suddenly gasped, her hand magnetising to her face. "What if _I'm_ late? I can't be late! Do I look okay?" she asked abruptly, more to herself than her friend.

Aubrey let her eyes glance up and down Chloe's body at her attire: a blue chequered, knee-length dress with a thin, black belt. Her feet were decorated with small, comfortable wedges. The blonde nodded in satisfaction.

"As my dad always says, 'it's important to look your best when you're ruining your life'." Her smile never faltered, even when Chloe's brow creased in confusion.

"I always feel so good after we've spoken," Chloe chided monotonously. "Now I gotta go before I'm late!" She shrugged on her jacket, picked up her purse and bounded out of the door. "Wish me luck!" she called as she pranced down the hallway.

"Good luck!" Aubrey yelled aftert her before closing the door. She breathed a sigh. "She's gonna get eaten alive."

"Isn't that the plan?"

The blonde twisted her head, ready to chastise the lengthy brunette, but instead got an eyeful of Stacie's birthday suit.

"Goddamn it, put some clothes on!"

* * *

 **Silly Stacie! Gotta love her, though.**

 **I made profiles [the best I could, anyway], for Beca and Chloe over on my Wattpad [DylanFox27] if you wanna check that out. Beca's one makes me giggle every time I read it because I'm hilarious - that's a joke, please don't take me seriously.**

 **Stay tuned for the not-date!**

 **Catcha later and have a great day.  
Dilly xx**


End file.
